Knowing A Good Thing
by dreamgurl
Summary: A CBN scene that I like to pretend was missing from Blair Waldorf Must Pie. Nate starts missing Blair, CB continue their little affair...


**Knowing A Good Thing  
(Before It's Gone And Found Someone Else)**  
Summary: A "missing scene" between Chuck, Blair, and Nate that takes place during 'Blair Waldorf Must Pie.' Nate starts to miss Blair and goes to talk to her, only to find a surprise waiting instead.

Nate Archibald left the hospital in a daze, not noticing anyone on the street around him—not even noticing what street he was on. He wandered aimlessly for a little while, wondering how exactly his Thanksgiving had gotten so crappy. This was supposed to be a holiday for your family, but he didn't even feel like he had that anymore. Maybe he had _never_ had a real family. His parents didn't seem to love each other, and loved him only so far as he could get them what they wanted in life.

A voice in his head told him that it shouldn't be that way—that real families loved you and supported you no matter what you did or whom you dated. Fathers didn't try to kill themselves because of mothers that were too demanding or because of embezzlements gone wrong. But it wasn't like he had any proof to the contrary. Blair's mom had always treated her like an advertisement, hadn't she? Chuck's mom had killed herself when they had been almost too young to understand the concept of taking one's own life. Serena's mom continuously moved them in and out of apartments, rearranging the house and their entire lives after discarding her latest trophy husband. It seemed none of his friends had anything close to resembling those **7****th**** Heaven **type families he always watched on TV. Did you have to be born middle class in order for your parents to love you or something?

If he thought about it, his real family was Chuck, Serena, and Blair. The four of them had been inseparable since pre-school, and he honestly believed they could get through anything together. But this past year had proved him horribly wrong: Serena had moved away without a warning and now that she was back, she wasn't really **back**; his relationship with Blair was in tatters, and he didn't know if they could ever be friends again; Chuck was still there, of course. Chuck was _always_ there, and he loved him for it.

But lately, something seemed different. Chuck was being… Nate didn't know what the word was, but the first thing that came to mind was "shady." He seemed to get uncomfortable whenever Nate mentioned Blair, and he looked into Nate's eyes less and less often. He would get phone calls at random times, which he wouldn't pick up. Instead, he would start texting furiously and get a curious smile on his face that Nate had never seen before. He did pick up one time, when Nate was supposedly busy looking through DVDs, and it was the oddest thing Nate could remember about his lifelong friendship with Chuck…

* * *

"Hey, I'm hanging out with Nate right now," Chuck had whispered softly into the phone the moment he picked up. The confidential tone with which he spoke had made Nate's ears perk up and drove his curiosity to such madness that he was forced to listen in.

After a pause, during which that smile came over Chuck's face once more, he had replied to the anonymous caller, "Yeah, I really want to see you, too…" He said it so sweetly; it was almost like _baby talk_. "…Let me just take care of this."

Once he had hung up, Chuck clamored for Nate's attention (which he had been pretending to direct at an old cover of **A Roman Holiday**. And, by the way, since when did Chuck Bass watch Audrey Hepburn movies?), saying, "Sorry, Nathaniel, I've got to run. I have… an appointment."

As much as Nate knew it was a lie, he had chosen to believe that Chuck was just making a lascivious comment, so he waggled his eyebrows and laughed. "On to your next booty call, huh? Man, you never slow down!"

Much to his surprise, Chuck's face had grown dark. "Nathaniel, sometimes you have no class," and with a slight, terse nod, he left his best friend alone in Suite 1812 to contemplate the acid trip he had apparently just experienced.

Chuck had been **offended** by a lewd remark? Chuck was _always _making derogatory sexual comments about the girls he liked to say he 'pleasured.' The thought suddenly hit Nate like a splash of ice-cold water to the face: could Chuck Bass possibly have…a girlfriend?

* * *

It saddened Nate to think that Chuck would keep something so monumental from him. He understood that Chuck had a persona that he wished to maintain at all costs, but weren't they the best of friends—cradle to the grave, or something like that? How could Chuck think that Nate would really belittle him for actually **liking** a girl for once? Nate would be thrilled for his friend, of course.

Suddenly, Nate started to worry about how good of a friend he was in general. He twirled his joint absent-mindedly in his hand as he went over all the conversations he could remember with Chuck in the last few years. It seemed like Nate was always the one complaining, asking advice, getting helped out of sticky situations.

When was the last time Nate had ever done anything for Chuck? Ever listened to his problems, or helped him through a tough time? He had once bought Chuck an ice-cream cone when his had fallen on the ground and he didn't have any cash on him. But that was in 4th grade, and it hardly counted when you took into account that Chuck gave away his Piaget watch and Babe Ruth baseball so that Nate wouldn't have a gambling debt.

The truth was, though, Nate never knew if or when Chuck needed help. Chuck had too much pride to ever ask for anything, and Nate knew he himself wasn't the most perceptive of people, so the only thing he could ever offer was companionship. And that was all Chuck ever seemed to want.

Perhaps Chuck just felt bad because Nate didn't have a girlfriend anymore, and he didn't want to rub his friend's face in it. But that rang false, because Nate had never known Chuck to hold back on anything. And as much as Chuck clearly cared for Nate, he was never very in tune with 'feelings.' He probably thought Nate should be _relieved _that the burden of Blair was finally lifted off his shoulders.

His thoughts then drifted to Blair. **Was **he, in fact, relieved the 'burden' had been lifted? These past few months, he had felt so pressured by his parents to love her that he couldn't even remember what loving her felt like. He had betrayed her trust and her devotion again and again through his sick obsession with Serena, and he had barely had the decency to feel sorry about it.

He thought back to their break-up, how he tried to turn things around, blaming her for not being there when he needed her. For being too busy acting like his mom and planning society events and ignoring the crisis at hand. But, really, she only ignored it because he had **wanted** her to ignore it. Was it her fault he had never wanted to let her in? He had been so afraid that anything he shared with her would give away the terrible way he had betrayed her, and continued to betray her every day of his life, that he had just clammed up and turned into a robot-boyfriend.

When they were younger—up until last year, even—they had been so carefree and happy together. The perfect couple. He figured that was mostly because sex wasn't a part of the equation. He loved her, she loved him; they spent time with each other and their two best friends. They kissed, they cuddled, they played games... She had always wanted to wait, and he had been pleased, because that meant she was good and pure and clean.

But then he had stupidly let his hormones get the best of him and had somehow ended up sleeping with Serena, his beautiful best friend with the incomparable allure. Suddenly, his world had been turned upside down, and being with Blair just wasn't enough anymore. She was beautiful, sexy, and perfect—everything he could ever want. And yet, something was stopping him from wanting it. Probably his guilt. He didn't **deserve** to want her, to touch her, anymore.

Nate looked up at his surroundings and was shaken from his reverie with a terrible internal jolt. He somehow found himself standing outside the Waldorf penthouse. Why had his feet decided to travel here? Usually after a tiring day, he would go to Chuck's suite. Not to talk, but to forget. And yet, today, he had gone to Blair's. He peered up at her window and distinctly saw her figure pass by it, filling him with such a longing that he knew he had made the right unconscious decision.

He didn't know what he would say to her when he got up there, but he had to apologize. He had to ask her to take him back into her life, in whatever capacity she would allow. They had always been such good friends—it was only right that he got another chance to start over, especially now that he really wanted it. Serena had gotten another chance, hadn't she? And this time, there would be no pressure, no lies, no…. Vanderbilt rings.

As he stepped into the elevator and waited to reach the tenth floor, he thought he hadn't felt so sure of anything in the longest time.

* * *

"Thanks for coming, Chuck," Blair sighed, wrapping her arms around him as he left slow, sweet kisses all along her neck and collarbone.

"It gives me a strange pleasure to act as your White Knight, Waldorf," he teased her as he shifted slightly to look into her eyes.

She laughed at the thought, feeling slightly discomfited by that penetrating gaze of his that read all of her thoughts. "I just really didn't want to deal with my mother for too long, you know?" She tried to punctuate her statement with an eye-roll, as if trying to say 'ugh, _parents,_' but his sympathetic, knowing look wouldn't let her do anything but be sincere. **Why** did he always have to know _everything_? It was damn well infuriating.

"You don't have to stay here…" He leaned down to kiss her on the lips and caressed her cheek before continuing in his 'come hither' voice, "You could come spend the night with _me_." Moving to the other, currently unattended, side of her neck, he whispered, "Bart's done with me for the day. You should tell your mom you're sleeping at Serena's."

She laughed and maneuvered herself on top of him, playing with his hair and she replied, "And what would I be doing at Serena's?"

He smirked. "Oh, the usual. You could talk about boys you like, have a pillow fight… Maybe play some strip poker…"

She swatted at his chest, but he caught her hand and entwined it with his own. "Serena and I have never played _strip poker _together, I'll have you know." She left her hand in his and watched, nearly sucking in her breath, and he slowly took it to his lips and kissed it tenderly, if that was possible.

He gazed mischievously up at her when he was done. "There's a first time for everything, sweetheart…"

Blair sighed contentedly and practically hopped off of him, deciding instead to lie down next to him and rest her head on his chest. She felt it rise and fall beneath her and was surprised how _relaxed_ she was, just listening to him breathe. "Is it okay if we just stay here for a little while, like this?"

"…Sure," he responded, sounding surprised, but not necessarily displeased. She knew he wasn't used to this (hell, _she _wasn't used to this, certainly not with him), and it gratified her to think that he was holding back his libidinous desires for even a moment.

His compliance gave her a sudden need to be truthful, so she spoke without even thinking, "Serena knows about us."

"And what exactly, pray tell, does she know?" He inquired in a playful tone, as if he weren't dying to know just what 'us' was.

"That we slept together. Twice."

His smirk was back in place as he smarmed, "And I'm sure as hell hoping to make tonight the third time."

She smiled flirtatiously, but went back to being serious shortly afterwards. Her truth telling wasn't over yet. "I told her it was for revenge," she said as flatly as she could, unsure of how he would take those words or exactly why she had said them in the first place.

She felt him stiffen under her and noticed his breath shortened considerably. His voice, however, did not betray any underlying emotions as he simply replied, "Well, I hope there's some satisfaction in it aside from revenge, Princess."

She seized on his nonchalant tone, hoping to make the most of the carefree vibe between them. "Of course there is." She looked up at him, drawing his face close to hers. "I wouldn't do it if I didn't thoroughly enjoy it." She gave him a long kiss, which she was relieved he returned with equal passion.

After pulling away, she continued, "Besides, I lied."

"You lied?"

Her eyes twinkled upon hearing the hopeful tone his voice had taken on. "Yeah. This would be a pretty lame revenge, wouldn't it? I mean, Nate doesn't know, and I'm pretty sure we never want him to."

Chuck nodded vigorously. "Definitely not."

"So, it's really just for the two of us, isn't it? Not a very effective way of getting back at anyone, I would say."

He kissed her jawbone without replying, and ran his fingers through her hair. Blair felt a wave of relief wash over her, and something else: she could tell her reply made Chuck happy, and that made _her_ happy. Strange.

This odd dose of happiness did not last them very long, however, because just then Dorota called up the stairs, "Miss Blair! Mr. Nate here!"

Blair immediately felt her heart skip a beat and her breath catch in her throat. Chuck's body stiffened once more, probably in response to the reaction she had just had. She felt a momentary guilt—Chuck obviously liked her, maybe as even more than a make-out buddy, and it must make him jealous to know that she still felt something for his best friend. But, then again, it's wasn't her fault that Nate was the perfect gentleman she had always dreamed of (even when he was screwing up left and right). How quickly were you supposed to forget your first love, anyway?

She eagerly jumped off the bed and threw a more appropriate blouse on over her lingerie lace top. Chuck got off as well and straightened out his shirt, even though he wasn't anticipating being invited down to chat with Blair and her ex-boyfriend.

He didn't need to wait to be invited, though, because Nate walked through the door just then. Apparently Dorota had decided not to do her job for the day, or was too busy doing her _actual_ job to stop random boys from interfering with Blair's exploits.

* * *

Nate practically barged past Dorota, quickly explaining that he had to see Blair on a very urgent matter, and not bothering to even knock as he came up to her bedroom. He knew he was being rude, but he thought Blair would forgive him once she saw that he came in peace. What he hadn't thought of, however, was that Blair might have company. Up in her room. With the door closed shut.

Seeing Chuck and Blair alone in a bedroom together was probably the shock of his life, but once he got over the initial surprise, he couldn't really pinpoint a reason for it to be an oddity. They were friends, right? Why shouldn't they hang out in each other's rooms? He had just never realized they were still close when he wasn't around.

"Nate!" Blair's surprised greeting broke him out of his thoughts. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I…" He was at a loss for words. He couldn't very well say what he wanted in front of Chuck, but he couldn't ask Chuck to leave, either. After all, his best friend had been here first. He was Blair's guest, while Nate was just an intruder. He had never felt unwelcome before, and it was a terrible, sinking sensation. "…I just wanted to see how your Thanksgiving was," he finished lamely. "We usually spend it together."

He noticed Blair's eyes melt a little and her expression soften, and he felt comforted by the sight. Chuck's expression, meanwhile, was hard to read, but it was definitely not warm. Nate briefly flipped through the Rolodex of his memory to see if he and Chuck had had a fight recently, but he couldn't come up with anything. Maybe Chuck's Thanksgiving hadn't gone well? Maybe he was mad Nate hadn't called to get him out of the luncheon with Bart's company?

"I had a wonderful Thanksgiving," Blair answered him, smiling brightly. "I hope yours was good, as well."

"Yeah, yeah. It was great…" _No. Stupid. _He was supposed to start this off with the **truth**, not more ridiculous, pointless lies. There was no reason why he couldn't share his troubles with his best friends. But, for some reason, Chuck's cold reception and Blair's odd cheer made it impossible for him to say anything else.

Nate tried to give Chuck a subtle signal to leave him alone with Blair, but for some reason he couldn't seem to catch Chuck's eye. Chuck appeared far too invested in looking at something on Blair's computer.

"So… What are you doing here, man?" Nate asked in a joking tone, trying to lighten the mood. "Does Eleanor really give better Thanksgiving parties than Bart?"

Chuck looked up briefly from whatever work he had, and replied in a bored voice, "No, I just had to bring over my father's business proposal. He's having Eleanor look over it because he's thinking of investing in the fashion industry, and he wants to know if he sounds like a convincing shareholder."

Blair smiled another one of those frightening smiles that he had seen so often in the last few months. "And my mother _does_ know fashion," she giggled girlishly.

Nate felt his face fall—he couldn't even help it. Clearly, today was not the day to talk to Blair. He started to leave the room with a mumbled goodbye, but he heard Chuck stir behind him and turned to face his friend.

"Nathaniel, do you need me to…?" Chuck let his voice drop, clearly unable to complete his sentence. Nate had no clue what was going on, but for once he understood something: Chuck was asking him _not_ to ask for anything.

"No, it's cool. You've clearly got business here. I'll see you guys later, I guess."

Blair waved goodbye with a sweet smile. "Happy Thanksgiving, Nate.'

He nodded, trying to look as happy as he could in front of his two friends. As he walked out into the street, the cold breeze whipping against his face, he felt like something in his world had just gone very wrong.

* * *

Chuck felt himself sag a little while listening to Nate's retreating footsteps. There went his good mood. He was officially the worst friend ever. Clearly, Nate had wanted to talk to Blair about something important. Getting back together, maybe? Chuck wanted very badly to punch something.

He took one long, hard look at Blair's face, searching for a sign of something. Longing for Nate? Preferably disinterest, but that was a long shot. Regardless, her expression was unreadable. He grabbed his coat from her computer chair and started to make his way out of the room.

Blair's hand reached out and held him back. "Where are you going?"

He attempted to compose himself as best he could. "I don't think I'm needed here any longer. Maybe I should call Nathaniel back for you?" He tried not to sound bitter, but failed miserably.

She rolled her eyes, a gesture that managed to somehow placate him. "I'd rather you didn't." She reached her hand up to muss his hair, and then proceeded to throw his jacket to one side of the room. "Could you at least wait half an hour before you take me back to your place? You don't want Nate to see us."

And then she pulled him back towards the bed to finish what they started.


End file.
